


Storm King's Thunder: Jailbreak

by valamerys



Series: Storm King's Thunder campaign fic [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Rekhien is a little shit and marin is vaguely panicky, So business as usual, mirabar, there's a wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valamerys/pseuds/valamerys
Summary: Rekhien GUESSES he won’t abandon Marin to rescue Phyn and Theseus by herself, UGH.
Series: Storm King's Thunder campaign fic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659832
Kudos: 5





	Storm King's Thunder: Jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

> After arriving in the city of Mirabar, Rekhien has been having trouble sleeping, so he stays behind while Theseus, Phyn and Marin went to speak to the local government. They may or may not have forgotten that Theseus is extremely recognizable and extremely wanted for murder.

Rekhien thinks he may have managed something approximating a “doze” when the telltale scrabble of claws on wood and hurried creak of the stairs interrupts. He has time to take a single fortifying inhale before the door bangs open, carrying with it a rush of air that smells like saltwater and dog.

“ _ Rekhien _ !” Marin’s voice is a jagged shard of fear, and it manages to pierce the fog of his exhaustion just a little. “We got  _ arrested _ .”

He reluctantly raises his head from the nest of blankets he’s accumulated. The tiefling is half-slumped against the doorframe, breathing hard, black hair wild, like she ran all the way here, and Lulu whines and yips at her side, doing an anxious canine shuffle. And if the wolf is here and Phyn isn’t— 

“I mean—” Marin waves a hand, tries to tame her panic into a broken explanation. “ _ Theseus _ got arrested for killing his dad— he told them he was the prince— also Theseus got a haircut— Phyn and I were just  _ there— _ I turned invisible and got away, but— there were so  _ many _ guards, Rekhien—”

Rekhien groans from somewhere deep in his soul, lets inertia sink him back into the pillow as Marin catches her breath. Of course. Of  _ course _ they got arrested.

“Why do you think I didn’t go with you?” He asks, half-muffled by the bedding and defeated by the sheer stupidity of this turn of events. It’s not like he actually thought Prince Dumbass was straight up going to get them all put in irons, but Rekhien’s good at risk analysis, and any plan hinging on Theseus’s nobility was a bad one.

Marin’s cheeks are flushed darker blue with exertion beneath her freckles; she stares at him with wide-eyed, sincere alarm. “We have to go get them!”

“Do we, though?” He’s too tired to mince words about it. He didn’t sign up for this. Didn’t sign up for anything, technically, but if there was an adventuring party contract, he imagines  _ ‘Don’t expect two orphans and an overgrown dog to break you out of prison after getting arrested because you had a stupid idea’ _ would be a key clause.

Marin’s expression flattens dangerously, and she strides across the room to rip the blankets off him, ignoring his noise of protest. “Yes. We do. Get dressed.”

He deigns to push himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, although he makes no motion to actually do as commanded. In fairness, he’s still mostly dressed from his visit to the apothecary this morning, only missing his cloak and knives— and a decent night’s sleep, but that’s his normal these days.

“I’m just saying, Marin,” The words come out delirious with exhaustion. “We could ditch them. Go buy a boat, just you and me, forget about wolf boy and the crazy murderer prince.”

Lulu lets out a whine at that, as if she actually has any idea what he’s saying. With a sharp look, Marin grabs his shoes from atop the trunk at the end of the bed.

“They would rescue  _ us, _ and you know it. We’re not leaving them.” She shoves his boots at his chest, finned tail flicking behind her the way it does when she’s agitated. “How many times have Phyn and Theseus saved our lives, now?”

“About the same amount we’ve saved theirs,” Rekhien deadpans, arms curled awkwardly around his shoes.

Maybe she’s thinking of her own rescue, he realizes belatedly. But that was different. It was  _ Marin _ . And getting kidnapped wasn’t her fault, and was in fact maybe kind of slightly his, for insisting they all sit down and shut up about her disappearing with a strange woman.

Time moves so slowly with these people that it’s hard to believe it was barely a month ago that he compared Kella’s forged note to the crumpled scrap of paper with ‘Stormchasers’ on it in Marin’s slanting hand, and felt unease bloom into something darker and threaded with guilt. It might have been the first time in Rekhien’s life that running from the problem hadn’t even occurred to him as an option until long afterwards, and it certainly wasn’t because of the threat of Theseus’s best Guilting Stare.

“How can you be so calm about this?!” Marin demands, radiating dismay. “It really doesn’t worry you that we have to go  _ break our friends out of prison _ ?”

It’s only now he really takes in the tremble to her stance, the electric fear animating her limbs. She’s only barely standing still, hands clenching and throat working like she’s a heartbeat away from firing off spells. It has nothing to do with indebtedness, or some abstract idea of loyalty— Marin actually  _ cares _ about those idiots.

He wasn’t about to leave her on the road to Neverwinter, and he knows before he even musters the energy to debate himself about it that he’s not about to leave her, or the others, now. Unfortunately.

He sighs deeply, shoves one foot into a boot. “What, you think this is my first jailbreak?”

Marin stands down a touch, shoulders slumping. “Fair enough, I guess.” She gives a slightly hysterical laugh, and the delicate chains strung on her horns shine in the midday light with the movement. “I’m glad one of us has done this before.”

“Explain again— slowly, I’m fucking tired— how his highness royally fucked up?”

Marin launches into a more coherent retelling of what happened as he arms himself and makes a few fruitless attempts to rub the raw exhaustion from his eyes, Lulu underscoring their movements with nervous pawing.

If Phyn or Theseus tries to hug him like Marin did when he freed her, they’re getting stabbed.


End file.
